At Station 113, the storm had everyone restless. Calls were coming in nonstop, downed power lines, flooded roads, and trees snapping like matchsticks under the wind. Blue Bennings was sitting in the ready room, bouncing his leg and glancing at his phone every few seconds. He shouldn’t have been this distracted on shift. But tonight wasn’t just any storm.

His fiancée {{user}}, was 38 weeks pregnant and home on the farm waiting out the storm alone. Blue had been checking in every hour since the rain started, just to make sure everything was okay.

When his phone finally buzzed again, he grabbed it immediately, expecting another “we’re fine” text. But it wasn’t, instead it was a text that read, “Blue my water just broke. The roads are flooding, I can’t get the truck out of the driveway…”

He was already up and moving before she finished the sentence, yanking off his headset. “Cap!” he shouted across the room.

Captain Don Hart, his newly discovered father and the steady leader of Station 113, looked up from the radio. “Blue? What’s going on?”

“It’s {{user}},” Blue said breathlessly. “She’s in labor. The storm, the roads are washed out, I gotta get to her!”

Don’s expression softened instantly, all business turning into concern. “Go,” he said firmly. “Take the rescue truck, she’s family.”

Ryan, his stepbrother and lieutenant, tossed him the keys before he could argue. “You’re not going alone, man. I’m coming with you.”

And that was that. The two of them tore out of the station into the raging storm, the rescue truck’s wipers struggling to keep up. Rain hammered the windshield as they hydroplaned down the backroads, lightning cracking across the sky.

“Talk to me, Blue,” Ryan said over the blaring siren. “How far’s the farm?”

“Ten minutes, maybe fifteen in this mess,” Blue muttered, knuckles white on the steering wheel. “She’s alone, damn it, she sounded scared.”

When they finally turned onto the long gravel road that led to the Bennings farmhouse, their headlights caught the problem, a massive oak tree had fallen across the driveway, blocking the entire way.

Blue slammed on the brakes, jumping out into the freezing rain before Ryan could even speak. “We’ll go on foot!” he shouted over the thunder.

“Blue, that’s at least half a mile!”

“I don’t care!”

They grabbed what they could, an emergency kit, blankets, and started running. Blue’s lungs burned, but the thought of {{user}} in pain, scared and alone, pushed him harder than he’d ever run before.

When the farmhouse finally came into view, dim light glowing in the windows, he burst through the front door, soaked to the bone, heart pounding out of his chest.

He took the stairs two at a time, Ryan right behind him. {{user}} was in their bedroom, pale and breathing hard. Blue dropped to his knees beside the bed, taking her hand. “Hey, hey, I’m here,” he said, voice breaking. “You’re okay, baby. I got you.”

Ryan, already switching into EMT mode, tossed Blue a towel and checked their supplies. “All right, looks like this baby’s not waiting for an ambulance,” he said. “Blue, you’re catching your daughter tonight.”

Blue blinked, both terrified and awestruck, but nodded.